Summer Snowflake
by SoundsRight
Summary: After everything that had happened, it kind of feels like nothing ever happened at all. Rated T for language and future implications. England/Japan.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.  
Note: I would be using their character names, mostly. I'm not really sure if this is really an AU type of fic or something else, but this was meant to be an AU fic. Also, I would like to apologize early for any out of character behaviour and/or poor plotting.**

**Warning****: This is a BL (BoysLove) fic. If you are not interested or strongly against it, I insist that you should look for something else to read. Thank You.  
**

..

An important event was going to happen on this seemingly ordinary summer night. The venue in front of them was all but familiar scenery. It was familiar to him, anyways. Red flowers adorned the front gardens and there still stood the seemingly unmoving guards at almost every corner of the building. The large monument nearby was cleverly lighted that you could see the top shine in all its golden coloured glory. Even after the war, the place still managed to be as presentable as ever.

Upon entering the house, he couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed from the situation he was in. Some of the faces he saw were familiar but were changed by old age; those very same people stared lightly then went back to their conversations, or they dared to snicker at the poor man. He adjusted the white shawl on his shoulders as if it were to hide him from the rest of the world. The walking topic of discussion was accompanied by two other men, but they were being stared at in awe rather than in slight disgust.

The reason of such reactions was because Kiku Honda was embarrassingly wearing a gown, and most of the people present are aware that he is a man.

Like all other normal men, he voiced that he preferred to wear a suit—the Japanese man even came to his friend's house in a suit to back up his statement. Elizaveta, though, had heard none of it and decided to barge into his room to dress him up. "You're body frame looks better in a dress than in a coat and tie." She would say when she had him in her grasp. After realising that there was nothing else he could do about her, Kiku unwillingly let the Hungarian woman dress him up like a doll. As soon as Roderich entered the room, he quickly apologized for his ex-wife's antics and proceeded with telling them that the car will arrive in ten minutes.

Looking back now, he actually had the chance to change into something more expected. But due to the interest of time and Elizaveta's attempts to stop him, he would only have the opportunity to take off the make-up. In the end, the Japanese man decided to make this as a self-punishment for not putting in more effort to refuse. And with all the pride that he held for himself, he did not back down from entering the building he was invited to be in.

"Don't worry, Kiku. That dress really is pretty, and it kind of suits you." One of his companions assured him.  
"Thank you, Feliciano." The latter replied with a slight bow.

The Italian then turned his attention to the final member of this small group. He talked about a lot of things such as wishing that there would be a lot of pasta in all the horrible food on the table. "At least there would be something that I'd _enjoy_ eating." Feliciano would reason out.  
"This is an international banquet, so I think that there would be some food from your country." A deep voice came out from the third person in the small party.  
"So you think there would be some wursts on the table, Ludwig?"  
"I saw a man going to the kitchen carrying a box of them, so I'm sure that there would be some."  
"Ah. That's good for you and your brother, then."  
"I guess so."

If either one of them suddenly became a girl, favourably Feliciano, then they'd obviously become a _real_ couple. This is what the Japanese man had always thought of when it came to the both of them being together. Other people thought so, too.

As the three men approached the ivory staircase going down to the ballroom, Feliciano thought it was best to make Kiku go in the middle of the group. "It looks better this way." Feliciano would reply enthusiastically; he offered his arm to Kiku, but the Japanese man politely declined.

When their names were announced throughout the whole room by the small, stout man wearing the big, white wig, Kiku really felt like he could just die of embarrassment. He didn't really show of his nervousness, though. It was a part of his self-punishment, remember? He'd have to endure it. At least those were the words he kept repeating to himself.

The Japanese man knew that it was he that was being looked upon since the other two men were already five steps below him. None of the hundred pairs of eyes followed the two men; they all kept their gazes at the one who was wearing the gown. Keeping his head downcast, Kiku hurriedly went down the stairs to catch up with his friends. Unfortunately, he bumped into someone else. He apologized quickly and tried to move towards another direction, but a hand firmly held the smaller man's arm.

"There's no need to apologize, _ma chѐre_. I would appreciate that you would sit with me, though."

Kiku was about to turn down the offer until someone interrupted them. He looked up to see a man in a dark coloured suit talking to the French man who was wearing a white suit. "Stop harassing the poor thing, you git." A thick English accent warned the other.  
"I don't think you're involved in this, _connard._"  
"Well I am the host here, after all. And in my parties, you have no fucking right to _assault_ my guests."  
"Then why did you invite me? Hm?"  
"I _didn't_. You invited yourself in, you twit."  
"I just wanted to see if you could even _afford_ to host a party."  
"You bloody bastard!"

As more insults and jabs were exchanged between the two Europeans, Kiku found the opportunity of snaking away from the French man's grasp. When he was successful, he silently excused himself to look for his friends once again.

During his search for his two friends, he saw some familiar faces around the room. Kiku found Feliciano's brother with that Spanish man again; he saw Elizaveta dancing with Roderich on the dance floor; the Scandinavian familiar-strangers and the Baltic acquaintances were keeping some things to their respective groups; he even saw his family scattered around the place.

He finally found his friends talking with Gilbert, Ludwig's brother. They looked as if they were discussing about something that did not concern him, so the Japanese man did not bother walking up to them. Instead, he thought that he might take the chance to look around the gardens at the back.

He finally found the exit he was looking for and stepped out into the gardens. The feel of the air here was always much cooler than back home, he remembered. Even though it was the same season, the breeze here felt like it was still spring. Kiku also remembered the times when he would go here for the summer holidays; it was a better escape here— nowadays he would usually escape to the northern area of Hokkaido or to the mountains of Chubu and Tohoku during this season.

Walking a bit more inland in the gardens, he felt someone behind him. As he looked back, it was the person he was both expecting and not expecting it to be. It was the host himself, Arthur Kirkland.

..

**After this story, I would add up another chapter explaining a few things that would clear some things up. As of now, you'd have to wait and wonder. Ha ha ha.**

**This was meant to be a one-shot, to be honest. Due to the length of it, I decided to cut it up and continue the rest soon after. Half of what I had done is already chapter two. I'm not done with it, though; you'd have to wait for it. This may turn out to be more than two chapters, too.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.  
Note: I would be using their character names, mostly. I'm not really sure if this is really an AU type of fic or something else, but this was meant to be an AU fic. Also, I would like to apologize early for any out of character behaviour and/or poor plotting.**

**..**

_Walking a bit more inland in the gardens, he felt someone behind him. As he looked back, it was the person he was both expecting and not expecting it to be. It was the host himself, Arthur Kirkland. _

"I apologize for what happened earlier." Arthur told him. As the Japanese man assured the other that it was alright, the other walked a bit closer to Kiku. The man in front of him knew of Kiku's old habits; he knew that the Japanese man preferred to walk out here at times. This somewhat proved to be a disadvantage to the smaller of the two—he couldn't be completely left alone in this place when he wanted to. Only the two of them dared to walk out into the forest like garden at night and not be frightened easily. The only time they rushed back inside was when they heard something crash in the building. Fortunately, it was just the small dog Kiku owned. Sadly, the small animal tipped over one of the expensive jars that Arthur had.

"I thought I told you that women should be the ones to wear the gowns." The Englishman smirked at the smaller man who, in turn, apologized quickly. "Though, you actually look good wearing one." He added almost unknowingly. Kiku's eyes widened a bit and looked down uncomfortably soon after. Realising the reason of the other's reaction, Arthur's face tinged red and glanced away in embarrassment to what he had said.

A small silence surrounded the both of them almost mercilessly. "I-I only said that to my benefit. It was to amuse myself, really." Arthur still had not turned from whatever he was looking over at one side of the garden. "I understand." Kiku replied without looking up to the Englishman. He fiddled with the white gloves he wore up to his arms nervously.

More silence enveloped the both of them, and Arthur kept glancing at the smaller man's direction. "You shouldn't really be walking around here while wearing everything white— your clothes would get dirty easily." He finally said as to start another conversation. "I understand." Kiku repeated again.

Moments after another abrupt end, Kiku excused himself and walked towards the building. As he was about to go past Arthur, the latter suddenly asked him to stop for a moment. "How are you doing?" The Englishman finally asked. Both of them knew what they were talking about, and they also knew that it was one of the few things that they'd rather not talk about. "I'm doing fine." The Japanese man replied with a somewhat dull tone in his voice.  
"That's good. You got me worried about not being able to come tonight, actually."  
"May I ask why?"  
"I thought that you weren't going to make it; you just got a discharge from the hospital, after all."  
"I'm sorry to have worried you, and the discharge was weeks ago."  
"I'm sorry to have asked." He tried to smile, but the atmosphere only seemed to have become heavier.

Arthur knew he had just struck a nerve of the person next to him. He thought so after seeing the other grabbing a handful of his gown and unclenching his fists almost immediately.

He's seen Kiku lying unconscious on that hospital bed; he listened closely to the sounds of those machines accompanying him. He would try to visit when he could, and he would always bring some flowers with him—those big white ones. At every visit, there would always be some sort of routine. He would knock on the door twice then let himself in. Arthur would then replace the flowers he had previously set on the table near the lying other.

The taller man then took the other's hand as if to make sure that nobody was to move from where they are currently standing. The Englishman tried to make eye contact with the other, but Kiku continued to look down in that uncomfortable manner. It was a disconcerting gesture to Arthur, but he understood why the smaller man was reacting as such.

They _were_ together at one moment, and they soon went against each other the next. It's reasonable why their recent moments together would be full of dense atmospheres and displeasing silences.

Their previous relationship had been a long one, but it was strained at the beginning. There would always be some sort of boundary between them as they would walk together over at each other's home lands. As they were on the verge of breaking apart, Arthur saw something in Kiku that he'd want to hold on for a little longer. After his efforts to opening up to the other person—twice, they were able to lengthen their relationship's course for quite a while. When they finally broke up, they were able to find new friends.

Unfortunately, those new friends played a major role as being one of the main reasons why they became enemies.

Arthur then released his hold on the other's hand and fully faced him with his hand out. The Englishman bowed a bit and smiled slightly as he noticed that Kiku looked at him with a lightly flushed face. "May I help you back to the palace, _my lady_?"  
"…Y-you may." The other accepted hesitantly.

They were walking slowly; their arms linked together as they strolled. For the both of them, it felt like they were still together. It was all amusing, awkward and nostalgic at the same time. Wanting to break the silence this time, Kiku tried to start another conversation between them. The only problem, though, was that he didn't exactly know what to say. As if attending to the other's distress, Arthur began talking. "How did you get the dress?"  
"Elizaveta made me wear it."  
"So it's hers, then. She's taller than you, isn't she?"  
"She told me that this dress was for me."  
"A gift?"  
"Her amusement—"  
"I see."

The two of them were almost near the building until Arthur came to a slow stop. Kiku looked up at the other and asked if anything was wrong. The Englishman smiled and looked down at the smaller man with a smiling expression. "Have you ever seen a snowflake here in the middle of a summer's evening?" He asked as if he were about to tell a story. Kiku expectedly replied that he has not seen any of the sorts and asked if the other really saw such a thing. "I have. That's why I'm asking you." Arthur laughed.  
"Is there something wrong with your weather?"  
"I don't think so."  
"Has anyone else seen such a thing?"  
"They already had." The Englishman said with a confident voice.

The both of them soon started walking again. Even as they entered the ballroom, their arms were still linked together. Kiku's mind was still on what the other had said, so he did not bother letting go of the other. Some people noticed the two of them together, and they soon filled the room with whispers. Even the orchestra could not completely mask the quiet discussions of the other guests. Most of them was about the fact that they got back together.

"This room is always ruthless with its hearsays." Arthur sighed but smiled soon after. His smiled widened as he noticed that the smaller of the two was still wondering about the topic earlier; he almost laughed when the other jerked as a response to his name being called.  
"Would you like to dance with me, Kiku?"  
"Hm—"  
"It's for my gain, of course. I'm not doing this for you."  
"I do not know how to dance."  
"No. You _forgot _how to dance. Let me remind you."  
"…Alright."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.  
Note: I would be using their character names, mostly. I'm not really sure if this is really an AU type of fic or something else, but this was meant to be an AU fic. Also, I would like to apologize early for any out of character behaviour and/or poor plotting.**

**..**

"_Would you like to dance with me, Kiku?"  
"Hm—"  
"It's for my gain, of course. I'm not doing this for you."  
"I do not know how to dance."  
"No. You _forgot_ how to dance. Let me remind you."  
"…Alright."_

The two soon let go of each other's arms to hold hands. Arthur raised their hands higher in the air and led the other into one side of the dance floor. The orchestra soon stopped their playing, and the people who were currently dancing did the same thing our pair was doing. Arthur faced Kiku with their hands still in the air; the Englishman placed his hand on the upper part of the smaller man's back— the other men around did the same gesture to their partners.

Glancing around the room, Kiku rested his hand to Arthur's shoulder the same way he saw the women have done. "Lean back for a little bit…" Arthur uttered quietly to the smaller man.

When the music started, it was clear that the Englishman took over the other's movements— it was almost like he was dancing with a life size puppet. Kiku could barely keep his balance while wearing those high heels he was forced to wear.

The whole dance made the Japanese man dizzy. One minute after another, they would do multiple spins and twirls. An occasional trip of the foot would be made in every ten steps they'd make, and Kiku's grip would become strong to the point that it hurt the other man. The taller of the two basically had to lift the smaller one up to avoid the both of them toppling over to the floor with the other holding on as if his life depended on it.

When they went to one side of the room, Arthur muttered to the other to kick a foot up. Reacting late to the awkward command, Kiku tried to do as the other had told him to. Suddenly pulled to another direction to continue the dance, the smaller man accidentally stepped on his partner's foot—with his three inch heels.

Feigning a smile on his face, Arthur reluctantly avoided the urge of shouting out in pain. People in the room noticed the man's pained expression and laughed discreetly amongst themselves. "I pity the man—having such a horrible dance partner. **Ha**." One of the people in the crowd said to another as our couple went near to the sides once again.

Casting his head down once again, Kiku's hand grasped on Arthur's shoulder a bit more freely than before. As if triggered by the first incident, the smaller man would simultaneously step on the other's foot as if it was its own dance move in itself. The crowd seemed to have been greatly amused since their laughter grew more audible; it was silent enough, but you could still hear the harsh laughter surrounding them.

As if on cue, the dance came to an end. The both of them walked out to let the other couples dance along to another song. When they stopped walking, Kiku faced the other man and bowed deeply towards him. "I apolo—"  
"There's no need for an apology. I told you… you forgot how to dance." Arthur told him firmly.

The Japanese man then stood up straight and noticed someone coming towards them. "Man, Kiku. You'd usually be more graceful— it's 'cause of those heels, huh?" The figure laughed heartily.  
"What's this '_'cause'_ I'm hearing? Learn to say the damn word completely, you wanker." Arthur scolded the American.  
"Your English is too long, old man."  
"Alfred, _your_ English is too fucked up— you're messing up the bloody language!"

The American decided to ignore the man and turned his attention to Kiku. He found the smaller man looking towards a random direction with a bitter expression on his face. The Japanese man absently held onto his own shoulder and suddenly excused himself soon after. Neither of the two blonde men immediately went over to stop the escaping man.

Leaving the two utterly perplexed, Kiku walked briskly from the both of them. He didn't care if he'd fall to the ground— as long as he'd get away, he'll be satisfied.

Looking at Kiku walking away, Arthur soon turned to Alfred with a somewhat soft look on his face. The same look almost mirrored him in the other man's face. "I don't think he's forgiven me yet." The American sighed.  
"Just give him a little more time."  
"Like what I did with you?"  
"Who said I have already forgiven you?"  
"Just a feeling, I guess." Alfred's smiled at Arthur. "He's already forgiven you— it's not fair."  
"I don't think he _has_ forgiven me, honestly. We were on another side from his, after all."  
"He still forgave you in some way—"  
"Probably—"  
"That's still a good sign, y'know."  
"—_Again _with that English of yours—"  
"You should talk to him."  
"—I suppose I could do that."  
"You're sure cooperative today—"  
"Quiet, you twit."

The American smiled as if he had just won another battle. Acting like the older of the two, Alfred gave a big slap on the Englishman's back. "Go get 'im." He laughed aloud as he watched the other man walking away while mumbling out words of something about raising an idiot.

When Arthur finally found Kiku, the Englishman saw the other being fought over by two other people. One of them was a girl with a Chinese-influenced dress, who held onto Kiku's wrist; the other was a tall man hugging the Japanese man close—his hands were awkwardly placed over the smaller man's chest, though.

While the two were arguing about which among them did Kiku liked better, the unfortunate victim was still caged from the tall man's grasp. Wang Yao could be found scolding at the two for their behaviour while a man stood near the Chinese man. The young man had a hint of indifference on his face; he stared with those still eyes at his siblings who were making quite a small crowd.

Finding it rude to interrupt, Arthur decided to leave the _happy_ family alone. About to make a turn to leave, he heard a rip of clothing behind him. As he looked back, he saw Kiku holding on what was left of his shawl on his shoulders— trying to cover the exposed skin on his back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.  
Note: I would be using their character names, mostly. I'm not really sure if this is really an AU type of fic or something else, but this was meant to be an AU fic. Also, I would like to apologize early for any out of character behaviour and/or poor plotting.**

**..**

_Leaving the two utterly perplexed, Kiku walked briskly from the both of them. He didn't care if he'd fall to the ground— as long as he'd get away, he'll be satisfied._

Once again, the Japanese man was left walking aimlessly in search for his friends—he'd like to leave. He found who he was looking for near the staircase they've descended from. His expression lightened up when he saw all the people he came with forming one group. When they do this, they agreed, it means that it's time to leave. Feliciano was the one who saw Kiku first. Waving a hand up in the air, the Italian acknowledged the Japanese man's coming over.

Before Kiku could leave, though, he felt an impact of strong arms around him and somebody pulling on his wrist at the same time. "Let go of him!" A feminine voice warned the person behind the unlucky casualty.  
"I'm the big brother—I should be the one to hold him first." The voice behind Kiku told the girl in front of them.  
"Aiya! What do you think you are doing to your brother?! You should act more properly since we are in an important event!" Another voice boomed into the scene.

For a few moments already, Kiku was stuck between his Taiwanese sister yanking on his wrist and his Korean brother hugging him— with the latter's hands in an inappropriate position. It was certainly an uncomfortable feeling for our unfortunate character.

A few more shouts and insults were bouncing between the two captors, and Wang Yao's scolding only seemed to make everything much more chaotic. The young man near the Chinese man only stood quietly in his place—as if he was a statue of some sort.

When the girl finally managed to pull Kiku closer to her, the other sibling's grasp on the Japanese man was broken up. Not wanting to lose to the girl, the taller man of the three grabbed onto the smaller brother's shawl and pulled hard on the material. Feeling the cloth choking him, Kiku pulled at the tie to avoid strangulation.

The shawl then decided to give up and ripped itself apart from the sudden force pulling on both of its sides.

For a moment, everybody near Kiku froze in their places—except himself; his hands quickly flew to the remaining piece of cloth covering his back. The Japanese man's face soon turns red that shouts out that it was full of shame, and he tried to rush to the staircase or the way that led him again to the back gardens.

He could hear his Italian friend calling out his name, but Kiku started trying to run away from everyone. He couldn't show them how badly scarred he was—they must not see those disgraceful marks of defeat. It would show everyone how weak he had been; it showed how powerless he was in conclusion to the war.

Hiding it was the only thing he could do to protect what's left of his country's pride—he must not corrupt their reputations even more. Attending the banquet while wearing a gown was bad enough as it is—

Kiku then felt something draped over his shoulders, but he didn't bother looking up at the person who did the kind gesture. He already knew who it was; it was another familiar thing to him from before. The Japanese man didn't know if he should smile right now or not—he wasn't even sure if he could still utter a simple word of gratitude to the other man.

"Let the festivities continue on." Arthur announced with a fairly loud voice. It was lucky for Kiku that only a small crowd turned their attention to the small incident. Unfortunately, this would mean misleading rumours floating around for the whole night and probably the next week or so—especially about what the Englishman decided to do—

"Come on." The taller of the two told the other. "Let's take you away from this place for a while."

When the two were about to go up the stairs, Feliciano pounced on Kiku with an apology in the form of a hug. "I'm so sorry, Kiku—I couldn't help you!" The misty-eyed Italian looked at the Japanese man with a sorrowful look on his face. Before any further conversation could be drawn out, the sad man was soon pulled away by Ludwig.  
"I'd trust that you'd take care of him?" It was clear that the German man was talking to Arthur about his friend clad in white.  
"Rest assured, he will return home fully recovered—I'll even take him home myself." The Englishman replied with a smug tone in his voice.

Content with the other's answer, the German man turned to leave and let the other two be.

As the other pair walked away—while having Ludwig practically dragging the whimpering Italian, our couple continued to leaving the room. Arthur's hand would place itself on the middle of Kiku's back and the feel of the manipulating puppeteer could be seen once again. It was almost as if the smaller man stalked off from reality—the Japanese man's face looked so blank.

It looked as if the small man had slept with open eyes while standing up straight in a rigid posture.

Going up the ivory staircase, Arthur felt glad to have pulled off Kiku from that messy situation. The only problem now was that he had no idea what to do with the other —what had happened turned out to be an act of impulse, really. Everything just sort of came to him, to be honest.

He _is _a gentleman after all, is he not?

The Englishman soon shrugged off what he was thinking about and decided to think of what to do to the smaller man when they actually left the room. The both of them were already on the top of the staircase and were about to leave—

"Don't forget to be gentle with him, old man!" A voice hollered from the other side of the room.

When Arthur snapped his head back to retort to that well suspected voice, he swore that almost everyone in the room had faces that screamed ill-minded thoughts. It was useless to say anything now; the Englishman gave out a heavy sigh and left the room with the conscious Kiku, who was keeping his head down in embarrassment.

It seems that the little white fairy has awoken now. Arthur smiled warmly and finally led the smaller man out of the room.

**..**

**I made Kiku so girly—  
Damn. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.  
Note: I would be using their character names, mostly. I'm not really sure if this is really an AU type of fic or something else, but this was meant to be an AU fic. Also, I would like to apologize early for any out of character behaviour and/or poor plotting.**

**..**

_It seems that the little white fairy has awoken now. Arthur smiled warmly and finally led the smaller man out of the room__._

They walked down a long corridor adorned with various pieces of portraits and pottery. Most of the portraits on the walls were of people young and old; they all wore jewellery and clothing that looked far too expensive to afford by the average man. The other paintings hanging in their places were of different places in the palace or of the countryside.

One of the sceneries framed on the wall was of a view from a cliff with the waves crashing themselves in at the rocks below. Accompanying the rocks and taking in the lashes of the waves with it, there was an amount of debris that illustrates to us that it was a shipwreck. Even with the tragic accident painted on the canvas, the hazy atmosphere showing that it was in a time just after the sun had rose up into the sky gave off a rather strange comforting feel than a guilty view of the incident.

The eerie feeling wasn't the sort of that would creep you out, at all. Rather, the misty look made you feel somewhat relaxed. It is really something hard to explain, but that was what the painting gave off.

The artist must have felt down at the time—the person must have been lonely. After seeing the ship down by those rocks, the painter might have felt that the problems faced weren't as serious as the people involved in the wreckage down there. It must have been the person's inspiration to live on despite the current situation the artist may have been in. Wanting to share the thoughts and feelings about the wreck, the painter worked in a time when everything was calm for everyone to understand the person's perspective.

As Kiku's eyes glanced at the painting up on the wall, Arthur seemed to have caught on what the other man was looking at. With an idea quickly filling his mind, the Englishman decided to take the smaller man to a quick detour. Knowing that they were going to someplace else, Kiku asked the taller man where they are going. "Don't tell me you have already forgotten the whole place." You could hear the slight disappointment in Arthur's voice.  
"I-I'm sorry, Arthur-san…but I didn't completely—"  
"It seems that you also forgot about how to say my name." The Englishman sighed deeply. "Were you really that happy when we parted?"  
"No—"  
"Anyways, I will just show you something and we'll go get you a change of clothes. Also, I'll be sending you home right after—is that alright?"  
"…It's fine. Thank you for your kindness."

It was yet another tense moment of those uncomfortable silences; it was getting annoyingly common at this night. Arthur was getting irritated too quickly—far too quickly, and Kiku was thinking of something to say to the other. Perhaps he could say another apology, or the smaller man could talk about how much everything had changed—he wasn't quite sure, really.

The night is really not going into a good direction, isn't it?

The both of them walked down another hall and turned to a door by their left. As Arthur opened it, the smaller man went in without really looking at what was inside the room. As Kiku finally took note of what was around him, his face was full of fascination and a tinge of amazement.

The room was completely white; the only colour found in the room aside from the both of them were from the many paintings framed up in the wall and the ones stacked in a neat pile by the corner. There was a large table on the side of the room, but it was practically cluttered with mounds of etchings, paintbrushes and used paint tubes. It was a fairly kept room—it was still considerably messy, though.

Even with all the bright colours drawing him in, he kept his eyes on the other man who was looking through the pile of artworks at the corner. Walking nearer to the taller man who was searching for something, Kiku asked if he could help in any way. "It's alright. This would just take a moment—ah!"

The Englishman immediately faced the Japanese man with an achiever's smile on his face; he held up a canvas in his hands. Kiku slowly looked from the other's smiling face down to the painting being held up.

It was an unfinished work of a child holding hands with another figure beside it. The work of art wasn't much in the level of Feliciano, but the feel was there and it was still beautiful to look at, nonetheless. The child was already fully detailed—it was a small boy wearing what children would have worn before; his skin was perfectly pale with rosy cheeks; the child's hair was of a brilliant gold colour. It was definitely an Englishman's boy. The unfinished figure beside the boy was rather sketchy than properly painted. It was still faintly outlined—

"This is a painting of a boy from my country and a woman from yours. I was working on this some time ago—I don't know how long ago, though." Arthur answered the unspoken question of the other man with a somewhat enthusiastic tone in his voice.  
"Why is she not painted completely?"  
"I didn't know what she was supposed to look like."  
"You have been to my country for a number of times, have you not?"  
"That may be so, but I keep seeing somebody familiar."  
"Why have you not drawn that person, then?"  
"It is because of the simple fact that I was supposed to forget that person."  
"Why must you forget about her?"  
"Who said it was a woman?"  
"You were a painting a woman, were you not?"  
"I was, yes."  
"Then who you were trying to forget was a woman, was it not?"  
" You still don't understand, do you?" The Englishman smiled amusingly at the other.

The taller man placed the incomplete canvas down by the pile of other works and walked rather slowly to the other man. Gently getting Kiku's hand and placing another on top of the smaller hand, Arthur looked down at the other man with a soft expression on his face.

"I was talking about _you_, summer snowflake."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.  
Note: I would be using their character names, mostly. I'm not really sure if this is really an AU type of fic or something else, but this was meant to be an AU fic. Also, I would like to apologize early for any out of character behaviour and/or poor plotting.**

**..**

"_I was talking about _you_, summer snowflake."_

It took quite a moment for Kiku to understand what he was hearing. Taking this as an opportunity, Arthur moved the hand on top of the smaller one to lift up the other's face. The smaller man's face clearly told us that it was slightly confused and maybe a little bit embarrassed—his face was adorable.

Leaning closer to the other man, Arthur slowly closed his eyes. It was only when they were so close to making the anticipated feat that—

"Y-you must take responsibility!" Kiku abruptly pushed away the Englishman with a very flushed look on his face. Both of his hands remained their positions at the taller man's chest; those hands almost acted like some sort of barrier from the other man. The Japanese man's eyes would glance at a number of things aside from Arthur's eyes. His heart gradually picked up the number of beats quickly pounding in his chest—everything was too sudden!

Was it really too sudden, though?

Wasn't this also something that was sort of being waited for?

Smiling slyly at the smaller man, Arthur carefully took both of the small hands away from his chest. Going closer to the other man, the Englishman held on to one hand and gently kissed it like a true gentleman. "Kiku—"  
"You have to take responsibility—you must take it seriously."  
"…You're starting to make me think that you are stalling some time for yourself." The smile on the Englishman's face only grew more devious, if possible.  
"—"

With the both of them closing their eyes—Kiku's seemed to be shut tight, the two of them finally kissed amongst the colourful paintings which were the only other witnesses in the room. The kiss turned out to be quick and chaste with Arthur pulling out of it first. He soon pulled the Japanese man into a loose hug—the Englishman's arms limply looped around the other's small waist hidden under his coat with comforting ease.

The two of them looked at each other as if there was actually nothing but themselves in the room.

"I will always take it seriously—haven't I done that before?" Arthur's smile was gentle to the smaller man, but his tone was as arrogant as expected of him. Kiku nearly laughed at the Englishman's delivery of his answer—a lightly flushed look and a soft smile nearly completely covered the Japanese man's daring urge to laugh; a quiet titter was heard from him.

The Englishman pretended not to hear anything.

Pulling the smaller man against to him, Arthur immediately decided to kiss the other man again—this time it had much more passion in it unlike the first one. Kiku's arms suddenly wrapped themselves onto the Englishman's neck for support. As the level of intensity increased, the Japanese man could barely stand up without practically hanging from the other's body.

Taking this as his cue, Arthur reluctantly pulled away once more and took the other's wrist to lead him out of the room to a much more _appropriate_ setting. Hurriedly walking through two more corridors and making sure that the other wouldn't trip on his high heeled shoes, Arthur finally reached a simple wooden door located at the very end of the last hall.

Opening the door in a swift movement, the Englishman led the both of them inside. As soon as Arthur locked the door behind him, the two of them resumed what they had been doing in the previous room. With the change of a bed instead of a multitude of artworks, it was as if what they had been doing in the other room was reaching to an almost impossible altitude of infatuation.

Rarely breaking contact, Arthur tried to untie the laces behind the other's dress. Kiku was busy removing the other's shirt to notice. Taking off one of the white gloves he wore, the coat suddenly vanished with an unnoticed drop to the floor— the other glove left was scrunched up to half its original length.

It was only when Arthur successfully undid the knots and tugged down on the dress that he was shoved off once again by the smaller man. The minute the Englishman realized the reason of the other's behaviour, Kiku was already on the floor reaching for the taller man's coat.

Unfortunately for the Japanese man, Arthur took hold of the smaller man's wrists; Kiku cast his head down in shame once again—his body instantly became tense. The Englishman abruptly hauled the other into a firm hug—

"Snowflakes are known to be small, unique and have this great weakness to heat—which is an obvious enemy. The snowflake I saw is almost like this, but it did not wane or become into something else—like water. Even if it was in danger of melting away and was going straight into the enemy's hands, it was strong enough to surpass their expectations; its pattern may have been tampered, but my snowflake remained to be its unique self. It lived on, you could say."

Arthur could feel the other's body relax—by a bit. He soon lifted up the smaller man who was soon completely banished of the dress from his body. With a bit of a half-hearted struggle, the both of them stumbled over the bed.

Everything continued on as if the coming morning was but an ancient myth—hushed screams and accidental moans filled the ears of the most observant of guests in the party.

The night went on as it was part of the world's natural order. Sadly for our couple, the sun rose in the horizon—telling everyone that a new day has come. The early birds in work would already be halfway to their workplace, and there would be women in aprons already preparing the kitchen stove to make breakfast.

Kiku slowly opened his eyes to see that he was burrowed into the Englishman's naked back and wearing the taller man's shirt. With his mind going back to Arthur's saying of the summer snowflake, the smaller man could only smile at the silly explanation. "Thank you, Arthur-san." His smile grew wider when he heard the other mumble to say his name more properly—the Japanese man laughed quietly to himself. Still feeling a little groggy, he closed his eyes once more to sleep.

Little did the smaller man know— Arthur was actually wide awake with a slightly flushed look on his face.

**..**

**This is not the end, no worries.**

**Arthur—you must face your partner and hug them gingerly **_**at all times**_**, you unromantic twit.  
Ha ha.**

**I heard that it was Arthur's birthday last 23****rd**** April—today is the 24****th**** in my place.  
If it's true, then you may consider this as my **_**belated gift**_** for him.**

**Excuse my long after-note. **


	7. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.  
Note: I would be using their character names, mostly. I'm not really sure if this is really an AU type of fic or something else, but this was meant to be an AU fic. Also, I would like to apologize early for any out of character behaviour and/or poor plotting.**

**..**

Opening his door to see Arthur holding out a bouquet of red roses for him, Kiku greeted him in loving kindness while accepting the flowers and led him inside to his home. Walking from the main entrance, the two of them casually talked about something that was one the top of their heads. The both of them soon reached the living room—the smaller man quickly went out to another room while the Englishman settled down on one of the cushions on the floor.

Kiku went in and out of the room thrice. The first time he went out, he came back holding a vase full of water and the Englishman's roses and set it at one of the end tables near the window; the second time was when the smaller man came in with a small tray holding up a couple of filled-up traditional Japanese teacups; at the third and final time, the man came in with a questionable parcel and a folded note on top of it.

A bemused look was evident in the Englishman's face. Kiku placed the package on the table and sat in that _leg-numbing_ position—Arthur has tried sitting like that, and he'd still question the other's long-term immunity against the torturous side effects.

The smaller man passed the small box and the note to the other. As the Englishman started to open the note to read it, Kiku only prepared for the worst. Arthur glanced at the smaller man with the same persisting look on his face and read what was written on the paper—

'_Kiku,_

_I've been sending these to the old man, but he keeps sending them back to me! It's getting annoying, so I just thought it'd be best to give them to you instead. I'm sure you could tell him to use them, right? 'Cause I'm pretty sure that he's gonna forget them one day, and he might cause some trouble for you. Don't you know these things cost a fortune?! They've been selling like hotcakes so it's all getting a little bit too pricey, you know? That man should be thanking me for caring so much about you two!_

_Gotta go now. A hero's job is never done!_

_Stay safe,  
Alfred F. Jones'_

—A second after, the paper was ripped into shreds and Arthur's expression grew more and more irritated by each passing moment; his fist made a fairly loud impact on the low table that shook by him. The Englishman soon pinched the bridge of his nose to calm himself down from his sudden burst of frustration. Kiku patiently waited for the other to calm down and regain his composure; the smaller man took a sip from the cup he saved from tipping over at the table—the other cup wasn't as fortunate as the one being held up, though—

"Ever since the last party, that boy just keeps sending me these things in every three weeks! Gradually, he sends them to me every single week—does he really think that I have no other obligations to attend to?!"  
"Did he not mention that he simply cares for us?"  
"It's all a lie—"  
"—Arthur—"  
"—Everything that bastard is really after is mocking me. He still dares to do that to me after all that has happened, that wanker." The Englishman made a heavy sigh and cradled his head with the palm of his hand—his arm was on the table. He glared at the package sent by the American and slowly pushed it away until it unceremoniously fell onto the floor.

The contents of the box that suddenly poured out only made the Englishman's temper much worse than before—he didn't obviously show it, though. "He really has no respect for me, whatsoever—if only I bothered to put much more effort into that whole fucking _ordeal_, he would be begging on his knees for doing such an intolerable act of foolishness. I sometimes wonder why I have felt sympathy for that ungrateful brat—it's because of my kindness that he won."

After a brief moment of silence that finally arrived amongst the two, Kiku picked up the box and returned all its embarrassing contents inside; he set the small thing aside and sat right beside the quietly fuming Englishman. Arthur made no movements to move, so the smaller man reached out to hold the other's hand. The other still didn't move, nor did he make an attempt to look at the Japanese man.

It's as if his heart, body and soul just suddenly turned freakishly cold—

"People could see that he is sometimes in slight remorse from that nightmare." Nothing else could be heard.

"You may have taken care of him, but he has found the need to become independent." The other still did not say anything.

"Please understand that he truly does care for you. You are the one that stood by him as he grew up, after all. You are his older brother, are you not?" Silence was becoming a natural answer from the Englishman right now.

Kiku's grasp on the other's hand only tightened in assurance—he slowly pulled down the stubborn Englishman into a loose hug. The position they were in looked to be very awkward, but it was still a hug that wishes to make the other feel at ease. "I truly believe that he has done these things in hopes of telling you that you are still a dear brother to him—do you not think so, yourself?"

Already starting to lose his temper once again, Arthur rudely broke out of the smaller man's hug and stomped out of the room—leaving Kiku behind. As a loud audible sound of the main gate shutting was made, the smaller man could only sigh quietly to himself and began to clean up the spilt tea on the floor.

An obstinate man—that is what Arthur mostly is, sadly.

Weeks have passed since then and Kiku decided to give Arthur a phone call; he knew the Englishman would certainly be at his own home by now. Wondering if the numbers were still the same as before, the smaller man revolved the numbers from the rotating dial—two rings were heard until a familiar voice greeted from the other end of the line—"Hello?"  
"This is Kiku. How are you?"  
"…I'm doing alright, I suppose. Is there something wrong?"  
"None at all—I just wanted to call you."  
"I know that you are lying to me."  
"Perhaps I am—"  
"I went out and spoke to Alfred the other day."  
"Pardon?"  
"I thought I'd do it for my own sake, remember that."  
"—How was it?"  
"I finally set him straight to stop sending me such _vulgar_ things— I told him not to bother you with them, as well. I presume that we're both getting on better terms."  
"I'm glad, Arthur."  
"—"

Days after the phone call, Kiku found Arthur at the front of his house again. The Englishman was lead inside to the living room, and the smaller man was about to make some tea for them. The taller of the two suddenly stopped the other from leaving and asked if the box from before was still here—the Japanese man said that he threw it away long before he came back again. "I guess it can't be helped, then." Arthur's smile grew devious and nearly frighteningly familiar.

As soon as Kiku realized the other's intentions, he was already sitting at the corner of his bedroom floor with the Englishman straddling over the smaller man's lap—the Japanese man was trapped, so he couldn't really move much. "I forgot to mention one more thing about the summer snowflake. Do you know what it is?" The smile stuck on the taller man's face only seemed to grow wider—it was obvious that the other didn't really want to know anymore.  
"N-no."  
"It makes you want to reach for the aspirations that are seemingly _impossible_." Arthur laughed whole-heartedly—almost in a sinister manner, really.

After that day, our unfortunate Kiku couldn't walk as gracefully for nearly a week.

**..**

**This was supposed to be a funny chapter, but I somehow slapped in some drama—  
**_**This**_** is the exact reason why I can never write a full comedy.  
Also, I tried to avoid ending the whole chapter as it is, but it was just itching to be typed out.**

**Please excuse my failure.  
I saw the sneak peak of the anticipated "Hetalia: America's Storage Cleaning"  
That is my only excuse for the added drama.**

**I wanted to show people my view on Alfred and Arthur's relationship, somehow.  
Ha ha.**

**Again, sorry for the long end-note.  
**


	8. Notes

**Note: Most of my references come from the commonly abused Wikipedia; the rest are from other sites, things I've experienced, from my history textbook or from the official Hetalia comics/show. **

**I will be writing some guides where you could find where the notes are referring to—it's going to be like a treasure hunt. If I say which paragraph in general is being referred to, though, it's because the sentence is too long. Ha ha.**

**..**

**Chapter 1.**

"_The venue in front of them was all but familiar scenery. It was familiar to him, anyways."_  
-The whole place is heavily referenced on the Buckingham Palace. I made a few changes on the interior, though. The only staircase found in the original building is the grand staircase leading to the second floor—the one found in the ballroom does not exist. The reason why Kiku is very familiar in Arthur's place is because of the previous relationship they had; I will explain that later on.

_Second Paragraph_  
-This story occurred during the 1950s—after the well known World War 2. This is why the main trio is still quite close to one another.

_Fourth Paragraph  
_-If you still don't know why Elizaveta is Roderich's ex-wife, this is because the two of them were the Austria-Hungarian Empire. They were separated in the aftermath of the First World War.

_Seventh Paragraph_  
-Remember that Feliciano's tastes are quite in the gourmet level? He detests Arthur's cooking—please believe me when I say that the food in the UK does not taste _that_ bad.

"_I just wanted to see if you could even afford to host a party."  
_-After World War 2, England suffered financially; they practically had to use everything in that war.

_Fifteenth Paragraph_  
-The Scandinavians countries are: Sweden, Denmark and Norway—there are some arguments about including Finland and Iceland, but I decided to add them in as part of the group. The Baltic countries are: Lithuania, Estonia and Latvia. These groups are already independent, but I used those names for the sake of generalizing people found in the party—I'm not sure if the Scandinavians are independent, though. Kiku's "family" is later revealed in later chapters for those who couldn't quite catch who I'm talking about in this chapter.

_Sixteenth Paragraph_  
-Gilbert is also known as East Germany/Prussia—that's why he's Ludwig's brother, remember? Ludwig is West Germany/Germany. Ha ha.

_Eighteenth Paragraph_  
-London can go as low as sixteen degrees Celsius/sixty-one degrees Fahrenheit during the summer time. In Japan, it obviously goes to something much higher than that.

_Translations_  
-_ Ma chѐre _is the French word for: "My dear". The thing about this is that there is another form of this which is: "_Mon cher_"—this is the meant to be said to a man; the first one is for saying it to a woman. Since Kiku was wearing a dress, I decided to make Francis mistake our poor thing as a girl—he must have only took a glance at the person who bumped into him.  
Try remembering this little lesson when writing a letter or saying it to a beloved in French—it makes everything saner for some people who understand. Ha ha ha.

-"_Connard"_ is a foul word. I don't know what it exactly means, but all I know is that it's insulting. Ha ha.

**..**

**Chapter 2.**

"_Fortunately, it was just the small dog Kiku owned."_  
-I think you could see his dog in the official comic strips.

_Sixth Paragraph_  
-Japan faced a tragedy in World War 2—the one America caused, remember?

_Tenth, Eleventh and Twelfth Paragraphs_  
-Their relationship before was basically referenced from the Anglo-Japanese Alliance back in the early 1900s. It was rather "strained" in the beginning because both countries had some different understandings of the 1902 Treaty. Later, they renewed the alliance twice. The thing I mentioned about Arthur seeing something he liked in Kiku was from the fact that there were suspicions of Japan supporting Indian nationalism and allowing visits from important Indian figures—this is one of the reason why they extended, though.  
-The whole thing ended at around 1923, basically. I skipped some years and jumped to the time Japan joined the Axis Powers while the UK joined the Allied Powers—the two main sides playing in the Second World War.

"_This room is always ruthless with its hearsays."_  
-When Arthur and Kiku entered the room, there were people gossiping. This is because whenever I see movies or read books about the times involving the UK in the old days, there would always be people saying the harshest of comments—it's not any different now, no? Sometimes, those comments could be very audible.

**..**

**Chapter 3.**

_Second, Third, Fifth and Sixth Paragraphs_  
-This is pretty much based on the English Waltz—it's the slower version of the Viennese Waltz. It's the English Waltz because they're in England—simple. Ha ha.  
-The proper "posture" for both dances is practically the same, though. In the videos I've watched, the woman would lean back; her right hand would hang high in the air with the man's left hand. I decided to make Kiku pretty dizzy about the whole dance because I grew a bit dizzy myself from watching all those videos. Ha ha ha.

_Eleventh, Twelfth and Thirteenth Paragraphs_  
-Kiku's peculiar behaviour is like that simply because I decided to make him have a small grudge on Alfred—he's practically the reason why Kiku had to go to the hospital, yes?  
-What Arthur has not really forgiven Alfred about is obviously about the American Revolution.

_Sixteenth Paragraph_  
-I wasn't sure what to call Hong Kong. Do you still consider him Chinese or is he Hong Kong-ese? Because I wasn't sure what to call him, so I just typed in young man. I decided to make Hong Kong go with his original family at the party. Arthur is still his daddy, though. Ha ha.  
-I'm not sure if Taiwan has an official name, yet—does she have one now?  
-I know Korea already has an official name—I just keep forgetting it, though. Ha ha ha ha.

**..**

**Chapter 4.**

_Eighth, Ninth and Tenth Paragraph_  
-The thing Kiku was being jumpy about was the scars that could be clearly seen at his back; it was the result from World War 2—particularly from the incident he was hospitalized for. You know what I'm talking about, yes?

"_Don't forget to be gentle with him, old man!"_  
-The one who said this _is_ Alfred. Ha ha ha ha.

**..**

**Chapter 5.**

_Second Paragraph_  
-The paintings of people there are really the rulers of that have served the UK—the monarchs.

_Third, Fourth and Fifth Paragraphs_  
-The place I'm referring to is known as: Land's End. I'm aware that there is one in the US? Anyways, the UK has its own Land's End and it's found in Cornwall—it's the southernmost part of the UK. Cornwall has its own flag, too.  
-The ship I'm talking about is real—a shipwreck _did_ happen there. I'm not sure if it's the same thing I saw, but there is ship near there that dates back to when Arthur was a pirate. Ha ha.  
-The artist's insights was what I somewhat felt when I went there—I wasn't lonely and sad, no. I mixed in the feelings that Arthur might have felt during either the break up with Kiku or the Splendid Isolation. Ha ha ha ha.

_Sixth Paragraph_  
-Arthur became a little bit of a spoiled thing when Kiku adds "-_san_" to his name because I want him to know the small fact that saying your name without any honorific attached would mean that he is very dear to the other. Ha ha. Hopefully, I'm correct in that rule—I don't know.

_Ninth, Tenth, Eleventh, Twelfth, Thirteenth and Fourteenth Paragraphs_  
-The room is called the White Drawing Room. In the real floor plan of the palace, there are four drawing rooms; they are the: Blue, White, Green, and Yellow drawing rooms. I decided to literally take the colour name as the colour of the room itself. The Blue and Green rooms may be closer to the ballroom, but the idea of a white room with paintings being its colours caught me—it was also the one closest to the private apartments. Ha ha ha ha.  
-Since there were _four_ drawing rooms, I made Arthur have some decent artistic skills. Ha ha.  
-There was a time when the Japanese culture did some influences over to the West in terms of art. One of the important people who introduced England to Japanese influenced artworks during the time was James McNeill Whistler—the one who painted: "_Whistler's_ _Mother"_. That is why Arthur made a painting of a British boy and a Japanese woman.  
-Arthur was trying to forget Kiku because of the break-up—that's why he didn't finish the painting.

**..**

**Chapter 6.**

"_Y-you must take responsibility!"_  
-If you watch Hetalia, you would surely know where I got this. Ha ha ha ha. What can I say? This was one of my inspirations for the chapter.

_Sixteenth Paragraph  
_-For those who forgot or did not quite catch it in the chapters, Kiku was ashamed of the scars on his back—he didn't really want to show them, obviously.

**..**

**Epilogue.  
****(Note: Alfred's letter will not be considered as a paragraph.)**

_First Paragraph_  
-It's a usual thing for Arthur to bring a bouquet of red roses, remember?  
-I based Kiku's home to those typical traditional homes I see on television. Ha ha. Arthur is sitting on a cushion because there are usually no chairs there, yes?

_Third Paragraph_  
-The "torturous" sitting position is the one where you sort of do a kneel-and-sit combination, yes? I really have no idea how they could get so used to it. Ha ha ha ha.

_Alfred's Letter_  
-The topic of discussion _is_ about condoms. During somewhere the early to mid-1950s, sales of these things began to grow and soon became the most popular way to have safe sex. I wanted to make them high on demand and a little expensive in this story. Ha ha.

_Seventh Paragraph_  
-According to my history book, it is said that the British people actually _sympathized_ the Americans in the Revolution—they also lost interest in fighting because they have other things to handle. They soon stopped supporting the unfortunate British soldiers stuck in America—this lead to General Cornwallis' rather humiliating defeat at Yorktown. I say rather humiliating because he had no choice but to surrender.

"_People could see that he is sometimes in slight remorse from that nightmare."  
_-I'm not talking about Alfred's regret in becoming independent, no. I'm talking about his small regret of leaving Arthur in such a state at the end of the war.

**..**

**I'm sorry for anything written that is rather rude or inappropriate. **

**If there are any mistakes to any of these notes, I'll happily accept some new points of information.  
If there are any points of clarification, please don't hesitate to ask.**

**I'm the type of people that **_**enjoy**_** taking part in intellectual conversations, honestly. Ha ha.**


	9. From the Author

All,

Thank you for your support. I'm usually a person who tends to discontinue a story, but you guys made me not do that—I'm glad. This story took me so much time for research, but it was well worth it—I suppose. Ha ha.

Aki-chan and nikki10nikko, there were times when I really wanted to reply back to your reviews. I just want to say that I'm happy that you like my story, and that I'm glad that you read it through.

I intend to write more about this pairing because they lack love in this place. I don't know how long it would take me, but this is my wish.

See You and Take Care,  
SoundsRight


End file.
